The Grim Spectre (14 page)

The bullets tore through The Grim Spectre, but miraculously they simply passed right though him, doing no harm at all.

‘The magic belt, it must be working again. I’m immaterial once more,’
he turned toward Phylo Zeus and said, “This is not over between us, human, I will be back to settle our score, once and for all. Hell holds a special place for you.”

“Yeah I ain’t a scared of you, Spectre. You’re bleedin’ right now so that means you can be hurt. Whether you’re a man in a costume or really are some kinda ghoul who’s gotta play by man’s rules is not gonna matter once I kill you.”

“You talk too much, Zeus,” in a blur of motion The Grim Spectre pulled his twin forty five’s from his holsters and fired. Like a jungle cat, a big, fat jungle cat, Zeus bounded up the staircase, unerringly avoiding each bullet’s deadly caress.

“I’ll have an army of my guys and then the cops here in a minute, you freak. Are you gonna be able to fight them, me and Popadoo when he wakes up?” Zeus shouted from the top of the staircase.

Ignoring Zeus’ inquiry The Grim Spectre instead roared a question of his own, “Where is Joey DeLuca?”

“DeLuca? You want that bum? Here, you can have him.”

Phylo Zeus disappeared for an instant and then returned. When he did he shoved a limp form down the stairs. The man grunted a few times as he rolled down the stairs and then to a stop at the staircase’s base.

The Grim Spectre raced to the limp figures side and immediately recognized the unconscious Joey DeLuca, even through all the blood that covered his face.

Angrily he turned toward the top of the staircase and locked eyes with Phylo Zeus, “You will pay for harming this man,” The Grim Spectre said.

“No, I’ll just finish the job the witch doctor started and kill you both myself,” Zeus shouted.

He aimed the Tommy gun once again at both The Grim Spectre and DeLuca and began to spray them with bullets.

Instantly The Grim Spectre grabbed DeLuca, turning him intangible as well, then both men faded away through the wall, disappearing completely by the time they emerged on the other side.

The Grim Spectre soared upward, carrying DeLuca. But his movements were erratic. He made a bee-line to Riverburgh General Hospital, where he walked through the walls and deposited the unmoving Joey DeLuca at the nearest nurse’s station.

“Tend to this man, immediately. His life is fading,” he roared.

The nurses and doctors present recoiled in horror at The Grim Spectre’s appearance, but he pressed them once again, “Did you fools not hear me? Tend to this man, save his life,” he ordered.

A doctor who was standing nearby pushed past the other stunned doctors and immediately began working on DeLuca. He turned back toward The Grim Spectre and asked, “Did you do this to him? Is this your handy work?”

Uncharacteristically quiet the ghostly avenger replied, “No, but I might as well have been at fault. The man had befriended me and he paid for that friendship, almost with his life.”

The Grim Spectre whirled and began floating toward the nearest wall when the same doctor called to him, “Wait, you’re injured and bleeding badly. How a ghost can bleed I’ll never understand, but you are injured. Let me help you.”

The Grim Spectre shook his head negatively, “No, one man already paid the price for aiding me. I’ll put no others in jeopardy.”

He turned and floated through the wall, passing through it and disappearing once again.

***

Across the city, Phylo Zeus looked out the window of his home into the blackness of the Riverburgh night. Next to him and leaning against the wall at his side was the still smoking Thompson sub machine gun.

One of his subordinates ran up to his side, his pistol in his hand, “Nothin’ Boss. We didn’t find any sign of the ghost.”

“Yeah Billy, I figured as much. He’s long gone. He took that loser rat DeLuca with him.”

The thug asked, “You want we should find DeLuca an’ snuff him?”

“Naahh, not now. Maybe later. For now we gotta track down the Ghost and put him away for good. Get word out on the street that we’re looking for the Ghost’s whereabouts. I want this guy gone.”

“What about him?” Carl, another of Zeus’ men asked. He was standing above Baron Popadoo with his own Tommy gun in hand. Popadoo was propped up against the wall, with a bloody rag held to his forehead.

Zeus sneered and walked over to Popadoo, then knelt down so that his face was eye to eye with the Baron’s and said, “You failed me. Not good,” Zeus shook his head slowly side to side, “You promised me that you could kill this guy or ghost or whatever he is. You failed, big time. He made you look like a fool,” Zeus poked the Baron in the chest to emphasize his point, “When you look like a fool, you make me look like a fool. Not good,” Zeus repeated.

He stood up and turned toward Carl.

“What do you want me to do with him?” Carl asked.

Zeus looked at Popadoo, who met his gaze stoically, “Truss him up tight, make sure you tie a few cinder blocks to his legs an’ toss him in the river. Nobody makes me look like an idiot.”

Popadoo gulped hard. Two more thugs appeared at Carl’ beckon and grabbed the Baron underneath each arm, dragging him to his feet and out of the house.

“Isn’t that a bit harsh, especially for you?”

Zeus turned toward the top of the stairs and acknowledged Oscar who had just asked the question, “New rules today, Oscar, old boy.” I’m through playin’ this like an honest business man. This city is mine, an’ I aim to keep it that way. No ‘Grim Spectre’ or dime store magician is gonna to stand in my way or make me look bad. From now on I’ll act exactly the way I should have all this time, exactly like everyone in this shitty little town expected me to act. I’m a gangster an’ if that’s what it takes ta get things done, then that’s what I’m gonna go back to bein’, an’ to hell with everyone who stands in my way.”

Zeus took the Tommy gun and as if to emphasize his point, fired it into the ceiling above his head with an angry howl.

He put the gun back down and turned to Oscar once again, “An’ get someone in here to fix all a that.”

Bobby Terrano opened the curtains over his windows and stared out emotionlessly. The sky was grey and the city looked terrible; dingy even. A steady, light drizzle flecked his windows. Smoke poured from stacks across the skyline, coloring the air even greyer, if that were somehow possible.

He sighed heavily and headed toward his door, grabbing a gym bag, and a light jacket on the way.

Exiting his building Bobby saw a newsie hawking papers, his cap was the color of the sky, “Getcha paper here! Japan invades China! World on the brink of war!”

“Let me have one of those, Kid,” Bobby said. He tossed the kid three pennies and took the paper from the boy’s hand.

Bobby shoved the paper under his arm and started walking east through the city. 

His fedora was pulled low and he never met anyone’s gaze as he traveled at an easy, non-descript pace through the city.

Twenty minutes later he arrived at a dilapidated building. No sign hung out front and the street was both filthy and empty. With one last surreptitious look in both directions, Bobby entered the old building and latched the inside door behind him.

“So, you have finally deigned to allow your master the honor of your presence,” a clipped voice rolled out from within the structure. Bobby stood in the dimly lit hallway. With a slight smile he headed toward the sound of the voice.

“Hello Sensei,” Bobby said, “It’s good to see you again.”

The man waved his hand annoyedly at his student. He was a smaller man, perhaps five foot six inches in height. His combed back black and gray hair did not belie his age. He wore a traditional karate uniform-a Gi-and stood with his arms crossed at the end of the hallway Bobby had just exited from.

“So you finally remembered where your poor old teacher, taught you from, eh? Go get dressed; we have much to catch up on.”

Bobby nodded and said, “I’ll be right back, Sensei.”

“Do not dawdle, you have wasted enough time already,” the Sensei said.

Bobby bowed and entered the locker room. He quickly changed into his Gi which was inside the gym bag he carried. A few minutes later he returned and bowed once more before his Sensei, to which he immediately received a slap in the back of his bowed head.

“Ow!” Bobby exclaimed. He reached back and rubbed his head, frowning at the older man in front of him. “What was that for?”

“That was for taking your eyes off of me. How many times have I told you never to do that?”

“Okay, okay you’re right Sensei Buraglia. Keep your eyes on the prize and all of that I guess.”

But the Sensei was not listening to Bobby. He was staring at his exposed chest in his Gi.

“Robert, have you been…fighting?”

Bobby pulled the Gi tighter across his chest before he replied, “It’s nothing, Sensei, just a little fight I got into a few weeks back. It’s why I haven’t been in for lessons.”

Buraglia waved him off, “I do not care. Take your Gi top off I want to see these scars you now wear.”

Reluctantly Bobby removed the Gi top and stood there silently as the Sensei looked at the scars criss-crossing his chest. They were barely visible, unless one had a trained eye. Sensei Buraglia had just such an eye.

Buraglia turned toward Bobby and said, “Tell me what you are doing? Tell me how you came to be scarred in this way. Some of these are bullet holes that have since healed. But how is this possible? It was not that long ago that I last saw you.”

“Umm, magic?” Bobby said.

His Sensei slapped him across the face. Bobby immediately frowned and said, “Hey…That hurt.”

“Good, it was supposed to. Now tell me what you are doing and how you have healed scars all over your body, when mere weeks ago your flesh was as un-marred as a newborns.”

Bobby walked over to a folding chair and slumped down into it. He looked at his clasped hands and then up at his Sensei once again.

“Look, this is not easy for me to talk about; you have to swear that you’ll never repeat any of this, to anyone. If you don’t honor that promise people could die; Tammy could die. This is a real dangerous city.”

“Bobby, what have you done?” The Sensei asked quietly. He pulled up a folding chair across from him and sat down quietly in it, like a flower landing in a field of down.

Bobby once again was looking nervously at his hands and then raised his gaze up to meet his teacher’s. He sighed and said, “I’m The Grim Spectre.”

Sensei Buraglia looked at him in disbelief. He turned his head slightly to the right and narrowed his eyes until they were mere slits.

“Tell me what has happened?” Buraglia asked.

Bobby looked at the small Japanese man and replied, “A few months back, before I met you and started takin’ lessons from you, I had found this magic belt, or wait, it really found me. I was told by the guy who handed it to me to fight evil in Riverburgh. I was told to do good here, to protect the innocent.”

Sensei Buraglia leaned back in his rickety wooden chair and crossed his arms, then said “How is that working out for you?”

“Don’t be a wise guy, Sensei. As The Grim Spectre I’ve done a lot of good in this town in a short amount of time.”

Buraglia nodded and answered, “Yes, you have, but your actions have also brought a large number of killers, thugs and other evils into this city. Zeus will not stop until he has found you; and the puppet mayor will send officers themselves to track you down and kill you. What use will you be to Tammy then?”

I get your point, Sensei, but right now Riverburgh needs me, especially with all the hired help making their way here looking for my head.”

“Sadly, I must agree with you. When were you shot and beaten like this?”

Bobby touched his chest and felt the scar tissue there. He replied, “Last week. I was rescuing a guy I didn’t really care for from Zeus himself. That little guy would have been dead by now if I hadn’t tracked him down.”

“So you did good and saved a man’s life?” Buraglia asked.

“Yes,” replied Bobby, “yes I did. And it wasn’t the first. Just the first man I’ve known personally. I also saved Tammy’s life from some man-ape scientist thing.”

“So you were selfless and stood against evil?”

Bobby nodded in agreement.

“Then you have nothing to apologize or to beg forgiveness for. You acted as a hero; there is no reason to ever apologize for that. Come, let us have some tea.”

Buraglia abruptly stood and headed toward the kitchen of the ramshackle building, with Bobby in tow.

The two men sat at a small kitchen table with steaming cups of tea in their hands. The Sensei spoke first

“Bobby, are you aware of things happening in the world?”

“You mean Hitler and his rise to power?” Bobby asked.

“Yes, he is part of it, but also in the south pacific Japan’s empire is flourishing under Hirohito. Soon he will be making a pact with the Germans and the Italians that is going to plunge the entire world into a world war so terrible the last one will pale in comparison. But that is not what I am bringing this up to you to discuss. You see, this war will affect Japanese-Americans most profoundly. It is why I keep watch on any news out of Japan, my homeland. When all-out war breaks out between America and Japan, The American army will round up anyone who appears to be Japanese and place them in an internment camp unto the wars end. You can mark my words on that. It is why I stay here in this wretched place. I am invisible here, nondescript. In this city, no one cares who you are or what you did before coming here. That will hopefully work in my favor when they start forcing people into those terrible camps.”

“I really hope and pray that you’re right, Sensei. But I just can’t believe that can happen here.”

“It can, Robert, most definitely, and furthermore, it will. When man feels threatened he retaliates as best he can, whether that is with weapons or moving those he deems responsible for those actions to a place where they can be watched, even if they never pulled a trigger.”

“Wow, that’s terrible,” Bobby admitted.

“That is why you must continue to do what you have been doing as The Grim Spectre.”

“Screwing things up?” Bobby asked with a smirk.

“No, saving lives and thwarting evil. You have done much good here, Bobby. The Grim Spectre is now a symbol in this city that everyone has heard of. A symbol of good triumphing over evil. You must continue to be that symbol, especially in the months to come when things turn dark all about us. You, The Grim Spectre, must become a shining light in the darkness of this city.”

“When all of this started, I just wanted to get revenge on a man who had beaten and robbed me,” Bobby said.

“And did you?”

“No, not really. I ended up saving his life,” Bobby replied.

“Ah the man you mentioned earlier. Now I see why you did not like him.”

Bobby nodded and said, “Well yeah, there was that.”

“Indeed. But now I must ask you, Robert. Are you in your mission for vengeance or for justice? Answer wisely, for the right answer will prove what kind of man you are.”

Bobby looked his teacher in the eyes and said, “To be honest, Sensei, I’m in it for a little of both.”

Sensei Buraglia nodded slowly and said, “Not a terrible answer, Robert. But you must remember vengeance is a hollow bowl that you will not gain sustenance from. Justice will fulfill you.”

“Maybe so, Sensei, but right now the idea of having a little bit of-no scratch that, Sensei-of having a
lot
of vengeance on Phylo Zeus is something that is really palatable to me. He’s been behind every bad thing that happened in this city, him and that scoundrel, Mayor Winston. Between the two of them, I don’t know which one is worse.”

“What has Winston done that is so terrible?”

“He’s been burning low rent residents out of apartment buildings that he owns so he can get high end tenants into new buildings, and that’s just to start. I really don’t know how deep his depravity is,” Bobby said.

“How did you come across this information? Did Tammy find it for you?”

“No Sensei, I found it out, as The Grim Spectre,” Bobby answered.

“You tread in dangerous waters, Robert; very dangerous indeed. Come, we must return you to your training while I contemplate what our next move shall be.”

“Wait, Sensei. What do you mean ‘our’ next move. You’re not going to be involved in this. I’m a one man show. I’m not putting you at risk.”

Sensei Buraglia smiled and said, “I do not remember giving you a choice in the matter, Robert. I will not get in your way and I will not even be with you on the street. But you will get the advice you do not know you need as well as someone to simply speak to about all of this madness. Now come, we will begin your practice once more on your blocks. While we do that you can tell me how you received your magic powers.”

The two men began to talk as Bobby worked on honing his skills. It was a practice session that lasted three times longer than they normally did.